“Then he muttered like he was talking to himself, "I don't know if I want her to figure out she's fuckin' gorgeous so she isn't so fuckin' clueless when a player marks her or if I'm glad I finally got one who looks as good as her and has no fuckin' clue.""Are you wanting me to participate in this discussion or are you having a conversation with yourself?""You're participation isn't required," Sam replied... and I looked up to see him grinning.”

“Where’s you’re fuckin’ bitch?”Cox looked right then left. “Shit,” he muttered. “I thought I heard something earlier. Figured she was fuckin’ Ripper again. Fuckin’ hell. I was gonna ask her to marry me.”“You’re already married shithead. This ain’t fuckin’ Utah.”

“Shit comes up, I'm here to help you sort it out and, baby, I like where I am a fuckuca lot because you are real, that's the whole reason I like where I am," he grinned again, "outside the fact you're fuckin' gorgeous, you got great fuckin' legs, you look good in clothes and a fuckuva lot better out of them. His grin faded, his eyes changed, they warmed in a way they warmed me and he finished, "So don't worry about that. If it happens, roll with it, I'm here and I'll roll with it with you.”

“Cause when it comes to you, darlin', I got no fuckin' sense. You fuckin' pull me in until you're all I can fuckin' see. Suddenly, I can't fuckin' breathe, but I don't care 'cause you, babe, you're you. And I ain't ever met anyone as fuckin' perfect as you.”

“I can’t stop this. I can’t stop wanting you and seeing you with Ad is – it’s driving me fuckin’ crazy. I want to take you right now, in a goddamn back alley and against this fuckin’ wall. It’s so fuckin’ wrong and I’m a scumbag piece of shit that doesn’t deserve to even look at you.”

“Want to make out?”“With who?” she asks, not bothering to look up.“Me.”She lifts her head from her book just long enough to give me a once-over. “No, thanks,” she says, then goes back to her homework.She’s fuckin’ with me. She’s got to be fuckin’ with me, right? “Because of that pendejo Tuck?”“No. Because I don’t want Madison’s leftovers.”Wait. Un. Momento. I’ve been called a lot of things before, but . . . “You callin’ me leftovers?”“Yeah. Besides, Tuck is a great kisser. I wouldn’t want you to feel bad when there’s no way you can compete.”That guy hardly owns a pair of lips. “Wanna bet?”